Return to the Library
by MorganAW
Summary: Darcy and Elizabeth arrive at Pemberley after their marriage and Darcy finally gets the chance to act out a long-held fantasy. Extended, adult, version of the final library scene from my other story Cunning and Compromise.


This story is based on characters and plot from _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen which is in the Public Domain. All original content and plot for Cunning & Compromise is released under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International license by Morgan A. Wyndham. Cross-posted on Archive of our Own under the name MorganAW.

* * *

Elizabeth was overwhelmed. Until today, her courtship, engagement, and marriage had all been like a wonderful dream. Her wedding night was everything her Aunt Gardiner had prepared her for, and far better than her Mother's version of that particular speech had warned about. Her husband was attentive, loving, and keen to please. Their plans for the future were happy, bright, and far off. But today the carriage had pulled up to the front gates to the reception of all of the servants of Pemberley – more servants than Longbourn and Netherfield combined – were waiting in regimented lines on the steps. Of course, that excess was obviously necessary as the house was far larger than either of the two estates in Hartfordshire.

After an introduction to each of the servants, Fitzwilliam had taken her on the 'abbreviated' tour of the house which nonetheless had taken well over an hour. They concluded in the most magnificent library Elizabeth had ever seen, where he promptly assured her she could see the rest of the house on the morrow.

As Mrs. Reynolds laid out a decadent tea for them in the library – truly more food than two people could consume – she softly voiced her fears to her husband: She was feeling unequal to the responsibilities ahead of her.

"Do not worry my love, I have every confidence that you will be a magnificent mistress, and Mrs. Reynolds will be here to guide you."

As she finished setting the tea, Mrs. Reynolds gave her a reassuring nod and swiftly departed. Her husband followed the housekeeper to the hall and after a few brief words, he returned, closing and locking the door behind him.

"What are you doing my dear?"

"Do you know how long I've waited to have you alone in a library, Elizabeth?" He said as he joined her on the couch and nuzzled her ear, "six weeks, three days and fourteen hours."

She smiled, "I'm pleased to find your memory so exact."

"I doubt I shall ever forget any part of that evening, it was the most important day of my life."

"More important than our wedding day?"

"Of course. Granted, on our wedding day we were bound together by law and before God. But on the 27th of November, our souls were joined together in love. We overcame our prejudices, checked our pride, and saw each other for the first time as we really were: two flawed individuals who were destined for each other. And then together we worked to combat those flaws. That one day changed my life and I shall forever be grateful." He closed this speech with an ardent kiss.

"What are you doing?" She asked again, giggling as he nudged down the shoulder of her dress.

"Everything I couldn't do six weeks ago," he whispered between kisses to her shoulder.

"Are you trying to compromise me Mr. Darcy?"

"Thoroughly and completely Elizabeth," he said against her collarbone.

"And here I hoped to maintain some credibility in Derbyshire. What will the servants say?"

* * *

"They've been dismissed for the evening," Darcy said as he teased his finger across her décolletage. He'd been physically attracted to Elizabeth from nearly the beginning of their acquaintance and he still found it surreal that as her husband he could act out all of the fantasies he'd alternately repressed or indulged in his mind for the past months.

"Shall we retire to my bedchamber then, Fitzwilliam?" She purred and he groaned against her skin.

"I see no need for that," he said, running his hand up her leg beneath her petticoats, "when we are perfectly alone here."

"Is that even possible?" She asked scandalized.

He laughed and looked up at her blushing face. As quaint as her naivety was, in truth he hadn't had much of an imagination on the matter himself until Wickham had plied him and Bingley with an abundance of liquor one evening at Netherfield in order to explain how to properly tend to their wives and he realized that there were perhaps some benefits to associating with a rake.

"Of course my dear," he assured her as he kissed her sweet lips – an indulgence he would never tire of – "as I said, I've been waiting to have you alone in a library."

"I never imagined … Oh!" She moaned as he found her core with his fingers. He sat back so he could watch her face: head back against the arm of the sofa, eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed and lips parted. She was magnificent in her pleasure. He slipped a finger in to prepare her and she cried out. Grasping at his cravat she pulled him to her and kissed him fiercely.

Her hand blindly roamed his body and he groaned as she grazed the front of his breeches. "There seems to be a disparity in the clothing of ladies and gentlemen," she sighed in frustration. "Without removing an article of clothing you have access to all sorts of lovely things and I'm left groping at wool and linen."

"Allow me to aid you," he laughed as he made quick work unfastening the fall of his breeches and freed himself. Her grasping hand curled around him instantly and he gasped, trying to control his reaction to her touch.

She had, of course, been a maid when they'd married as was expected of a woman of her breeding. Unlike other gentlemen of his rank, however, he had also been untouched when he led her to the marriage bed. Wicham had tried to corrupt him in their youth, but fear of the pox and disgust of the vices that led men to neglect their duty had kept him away from houses of ill repute and he had too much honor to trifle with servants or merchants daughters.

The happy result was that they could explore this new aspect of marriage together. The unhappy result was that their previous encounters had been embarrassingly brief. While Elizabeth had certainly enjoyed herself, he wasn't certain that she'd reached a climax as of yet. While other men may not be concerned with such things, Fitzwilliam Darcy considered it one of his many duties to his bride. Therefore, he mentally worked through Greek verb conjugations in his mind to distract himself from her roving hand as he continued to stimulate her.

* * *

Elizabeth maintained her grip on his shaft with one hand while the other snaked it's way through his hair to pull him in for another kiss. She was unsure why her husband hadn't commenced the marriage act yet. He was lingering far longer with this preparatory stage than he had in the past. The rod in her hand was stiff and strong and certainly eager to serve its purpose. From all she knew of the process, he should be quite ready and the sound that accompanied his finger as it entered and receded from her indicated the she was as well.

The longer he continued to rub and tease her with his fingers, the more impatient she grew for him to be in her. She was also finding the restless feeling in her stomach more insistent than it had been before. "Fitzwilliam, please!" She called out, desperate for … something.

Her husband let out a low growl and positioned himself at her entrance. He slipped in smoothly, the pain and resistance of their first encounters now gone, and she moaned in response. The sensations were somehow more intense. Her fingers gripped at the back of his neck as he labored over her.

He moved his hand between them and began rubbing her as he continued to pump in and out. A fierce wave of passion waved over her and she felt herself clench around him as another and another crashed down on her. She heard him call her name as he thrust deeply into her.

When she opened her eyes again, Fitzwilliam's face hovered mere inches above hers and that piercing gaze of his bore into her as they both attempted to regulate their breathing. Elizabeth felt like she'd just run up Oakham mount. She noted that her skin felt more sensitive as she ran her hand over his shoulders, enjoying the texture of his woolen coat.

* * *

"What just happened?" Elizabeth asked, adorably confused.

Darcy felt rather pleased with himself as he replied: "That was le petit mort, my dearest," he kissed her cheek, "loveliest," he kissed the other, "Elizabeth," he sighed against her lips as he kissed her tenderly.

"That was lovely," Elizabeth sighed as she stretched beneath him.

He felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment that he'd made her happy. He couldn't repress what he feared was a rather ridiculous boyish smile. "I'm glad you approve. I shall strive to repeat that performance as often as possible," He said as he kissed her again, basking in his wife's approval. Realizing that he was still crushing her to the sofa, he shifted his weight off of her and sat up.

She gave a quiet mou of dissapointment at the loss of contact and sat up as well to wrap her arms around his waist. "I love you," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I love you too Elizabeth," he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her temple, "always."

* * *

Notes: I recently published _Cunning and Compromise_ on Smashwords. In that process I extended the epilogue scene to include the sex instead of skip over it with an elipses. I don't want to change the rating of the story, so I figured I'd post this as a separate, mature, story.

If you enjoyed _Cunning and Compromise_ or this short steamier excerpt, you can look it up on Smashwords under the author Morgan A Wyndham and support my writing. However, this work will remain on this site in full.


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